


Centerfold

by Notthedrones



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-01
Updated: 2019-05-01
Packaged: 2020-02-10 18:14:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18665719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Notthedrones/pseuds/Notthedrones
Summary: Jesse finds out that Hanzo used to be a centerfold model.





	Centerfold

His blood ran cold. All the color drained from Jesse’s face as all the blood in his head dropped down and filled something else while his eyes remained glued to the pages in his hands. His hands were shaking as they battled between closing the magazine he held or leaving it open for his wondering eyes.    
  
Jesse had thought it was a joke. Genji, his dear friend, comrade, his partner in multiple crimes had thrown an offhanded comment about his brother just the other day that Jesse assumed was a joke. 

 

It was no secret to Genji that Jesse was head over heels for his brother. The moment the two met he could see the sparks. The sparks were at first caused by Jesse calling Hanzo some rude name that made Hanzo bristle and spark with angry dragon magic. 

  
Since then, the two spent most of their time pissing one another off. It started with Jesse commenting on Hanzo’s outdated weapon, moved to weekly bets to see who could take down the most targets, and then to daily side-by-side training. At some point, the two men’s words become less harsh and fonder.    
  
“Hanzo used to model.” That was all Genji said when Jesse was, once again, caught staring at the archer from across the rec room during a game of cards.     
  
“What was that?” Jesse didn’t think he heard him right the first time. Maybe it was the robotic distortion of his mask that tricked Jesse’s ear.    
  
“Hanzo used to model. Back when he was in college he got picked up on campus.” Whenever Genji talked about his brief college experience it was usually about some crazy party where he tried some new drug or hooked up with some senator’s son and/or daughter. He never talked about Hanzo before now.    
  
“Why are you tellin’ me this?” Jesse was skeptical. He could not read Genji’s face because of his mask so he could not tell if he was bluffing. Which was the point of him wearing it during their game of poker.    
  
“I just wonder-” Genji trailed off, “Why I never got picked up by a recruiter.”    
  
“Perhaps because you have a difficult time holding still.” Jesse had forgotten that Zenyatta sat at the same table with his own hand of cards.     
  
“Master, please.” Genji scoffed and turned his head away, to what Jesse imagined, to pout. “I would have made an excellent model.”   
  
“Models require patience. A trait that I have long ago since realized you lack, my sparrow.” Zenyatta’s laughter twinkled and infected Jesse, making him laugh along.    
  
After the brief break, the trio returned back to their cards in hand. Genji got distracted with helping his master learn the game and then they all completely forgot the topic when Zenyatta played their pockets dry. It turned out the Shimbali monk knew how to play and had no moral obligations against hustling his poor student and the cowboy.    
  
Jesse didn’t see Hanzo again until the next day at their scheduled target practice. Spotting the other man on the other side of the range sparked that memory from the day before when Genji caught him staring. His cheeks warmed a little with embarrassment but he brushed off the feeling in favor of turning on his southern charm.    
  
“Howdy there, robin hood.” He tipped his hat and gave Hanzo that classic Jesse smile; crooked and made the wrinkles on his face more prominent.    
  
“Roy Rogers.” Hanzo returned curtly but with a classic Hanzo smile: nearly nonexistent except for the way the corners of his lips twitched slightly up.    
  
“That's a new one. Have you been watchin’ those movies I lent you?” Jesse referred to the classic cowboy boxset that he pushed onto Hanzo one night when he mentioned possibly expanding his pop-culture knowledge.    
  
“Of course not. Those movies are so old I fear that the records would turn to dust if I took them from their cases.” Jesse did not need to know that Hanzo had already made it halfway through the set. Instead of drinking or meditating alone every night, the elder Shimada had started watching the films. There was something about them that was comforting to Hanzo, not that he would ever admit it.    
  
“Don’t worry ‘bout that, dumplin’. Those tapes are built to last.” Hanzo only hummed in acknowledgment before returning his attention to his target and lined up another shot.    
  
“You know I prefer classic media. There’s somethin’ bout the way things used to be made that has a charm to it.”   
  
“You sound like an old man.”   
  
“But it’s true. Now, don’t think that I don’t like today’s technology. I wouldn’t be alive without it. But I feel like no one appreciates the feel of somethin’ real in their hands.”   
  
“Real?”   
  
“Like tapes, records, books-” Jesse started to list.   
  
“McCree, you have not been alive long enough to grow up with half those things.”    
  
“Back when I was still with Deadlock I did. There weren't a lotta places out in the dessert that had electricity or wi-fi so we did our learnin’ the old fashioned way.”   
  
“That sounds-” Awful, Hanzo thought. He could not imagine going to school where he would be required to read an entire book just to find a little bit of fact for his assignments.    
  
“Yeah-yeah, I know. But it really makes you appreciate the way things used to be.”   
  
Hanzo rolled his eyes before lining up his shot again. He did not want to pursue this strange conversation about why McCree finds books more superior than the internet.    
  
“Playboy magazine is also much better than whatever bullshit you find online today.” Jesse’s comment once again distracted Hanzo from his target. He finally sat his bow down to stare at the man next to him.    
  
“What are you saying?” Hanzo may have not been mentally prepared to ask that question but he didn’t know what else to expect for besides McCree’s honest answer. The cowboy was always far too honest.    
  
“You know? Playboy magazine. You wanted to see somethin’ good then that's what you should get your hands on. None of that online porn bullshit.”   
  
“Is that so? I take it you read a lot of Playboy while in deadlock?” Hanzo didn’t know why he continued to ask. Actually, he did know. Jesse didn’t often bring up this personal topic and it made Hanzo curious.    
  
“Found my first one when I was fifteen.” Jesse crossed his arms across his chest and tilted his chin up, appearing proud of that fact. “An I still prefer them.”   
  
Hanzo scoffed, “You read Playboy, still?”    
  
“As long as they keep publishin’ them. Even if they stopped I still keep my favorited under my mattress.” Jesse laughed when he managed to make Hanzo roll his eyes at him. Hanzo had a habit of being more expressive around Jesse when they were alone. This always made Jesse feel special.    
  
“You are ridiculous. The fact that Playboy continues to publish real magazines is a waste of resources and time for sentimental fools like you.”    
  
“Maybe I’ll lend you one of mine-” Jesse said teasingly, enjoying the way Hanzo’s wild eyebrows shot up to his hairline, “Make sure you clean it off before givin’ it back an I’ll show you what I mean ‘bout the real thing bein’ better.”    
  
That earned Jesse an earful of flustered Japanese and an arrow point right at him before he could apologize and turn tail. Jesse knew Hanzo wouldn't actually shoot him but he didn’t want to take his chances in case he really stepped over the line this time.    
  
Jesse didn’t see Hanzo at the rec room that evening. They haven't crossed paths since training and he wondered if he really did cross the line. The two of them met at the dining room nearly every day and shared a coffee right before bed. However, Hanzo was a ghost for the rest of the day and left Jesse running a letter of apology in his head for over an hour.    
  
He returned to his quarters a little less cheerful than he left that morning. He considered walking by Hanzo’s room instead to give his apology but decided that he’d rather wait until he could come up with something better than, “I’m sorry I offered you spank-bank material.”    
  
The cowboy sluggishly removed his paraphernalia. Starting with his boots which he left by the door, then his hat that was tossed onto his cluttered desk, his serape was draped over a chair and he started on his belt buckle when he noticed the magazine sitting innocently on his bed. Despite the messy state that Jesse constantly lived in he could always tell when something was out of place.    
  
Jesse took his hand off his belt to reach for the stray magazine sitting on his sheets. At first look, he assumed it was one of his Playboys that was accidentally left behind after a hurried morning session with his hand but upon further inspection, he realized he didn’t recognize the cover.    
  
The Playboy was not one he already owned. The cover was far too crisp as if someone had left it in a protective sleeve since the moment it came off the press. All of Jesse’s were worn from being handled and had dog-eared pages from when he marked his favorite models.    
  
Jesse carefully flipped the magazine open and scanned past the articles to look at the photos within. The models were stunning but not really his type until he came across the center-fold.    
  
“Fuckin’ hell-” Jesse swore as his eye’s nearly bugged out of his head.    
  
Laying across a sheet of red velvet, wearing  negligee that hid nothing from the camera, was Hanzo. At least Jesse was sure it was Hanzo. The archer did not have the beard but the winding dragon on his arm was a dead give-away.    
  
Jesse was caught in the middle of a battle between figuring out where this magazine came from and finally removing his belt. The later won when his eyes ran right back over that figure on the page.    
  
Jesse tore his belt off and shoved his jeans down to his knees before taking a seat on his bed with the magazine still held up in one hand. His cock already stretched out his boxers but not nearly as much as Hanzo’s stretched out the silk panties he wore in that photo. Jesse could see a stark outline of Hanzo’s cock pressed through the thin fabric, leaving the rest to his active imagination.    
  
Jesse pressed his palm against his own hard-on as he imagined doing the same to the other man. He pretended the standard cotton beneath his hand was the silk he imagined was soft and smooth. If he had Hanzo spread out in his bed right now he would tease him like this. Jesse could almost hear his husky moans. Hanzo’s voice was already deep and masculine without exertion. When the archer was winded after a good fight then his raspy voice haunted Jesse’s dreams for almost a week.    
  
Just the thought of Hanzo moaning Jesse’s name made the gunslinger stop his teasing and reach into his boxers. Jesse pulled his cock out and fisted it tightly to drag out the fantasy. Up next, he imagined pressing his tongue against the sheer bralette that covered Hanzo’s chest. He was not as thick in his 20’s as he was now but Hanzo could still fill out a bra. His nipples were visible from beneath the see-through garment which made them even more enticing. Jesse would make Hanzo leave the outfit on. The stretch of dark fabric highlighted Hanzo’s natural curves and made his blush stand out.    
  
Jesse felt his own cheeks heat up at the sight. Hanzo’s face and shoulders were almost completely covered in a dusting of pink that was somehow captured on camera. His gaze glared at the camera angrily but he still looked bashful. It was no wonder Hanzo was the centerfold, he was a natural model.    
  
Jesse groaned as he started moving his hand up and down his length. His movement hastened every time he imagined Hanzo in a new position. He thought about the archer on his knees; looking up with that same angry glare but with mouth open wide for Jesse’s cock. Those pink lips would wrap sinfully around his shaft and slide all the way down until Jesse was pushed against the back of his throat.    
  
His hand went back to squeezing his shaft to keep from coming too soon because the next position he had in mind was too enticing not to think about. Jesse imagined Hanzo laying on his back just like in the photo. Jesse would slot himself between his spread legs and push his panties to the side to reveal an already loosened hole. In his fantasy, Hanzo would already be prepped and ready for Jesse’s cock. Hanzo would demand Jesse to put it in and stop playing around but he won't listen. Jesse would just press his fingers against his rim and find that sweet spot inside him. He would make Hanzo beg for his cock before giving it to him.    
  
Jesse pumped his fist in time with the rhythm he set in his fantasy. Hanzo tried to make demands but his words could only form choked pleads with every hard thrust. Jesse pushed Hanzo’s stocking clad thighs back against his shoulders, folding Hanzo in half, and slammed into his tight hole. He bet Hanzo would squeeze him tightly.    
“Fuck-fuck-yes-” Jesse swore into his empty room as the fantasy got a little dirtier. In his mind, Hanzo was saying filthy things. Things about wanting to be fucked raw and filled to the brim. Jesse was more than happy to oblige and he found himself coming into his fist. The mess thankfully didn’t stain the pages but it left a wet spot on his boxers.    
  
With an exhausted groan, Jesse tossed the magazine back onto the bed before getting up to grab a tissue to clean his hand with.    
  
However, on his way to the bathroom to take a shower before bed, he was stopped by a knock on the door. Jesse was already confused by the strange magazine’s appearance but now he was confused as to who was at his door at nearly midnight.    
  
Jesse zipped up his pants and walked over to the entrance. Opening the door, he was surprised and flustered to see Hanzo standing on the other side.    
  
“H-howdy-” Jesse greeted weakly. He wished the floor could swallow him up right now because he could not look at Hanzo without imagining that enticing center-fold. He didn’t think he could ever think about the archer without getting a boner again. His memory had been sold.    
  
“Clint Eastwood,” Hanzo responded curtly. His eyes took in Jesse’s flustered appearance from his red face to the wrinkled and untuck state of his flannel.    
  
“What-uh-what are you doin’ ‘ere?” Jesse’s decided to keep his eyes pinned to the space above Hanzo’s head to lessen the embarrassment he felt. However, what Hanzo said next just snapped his attention right back to the other man.   
  
“I was wondering if perhaps you would like to try the real thing. I hear it is better.” 


End file.
